The Fisher King and the Princess of Silence
by Howlynn
Summary: We all know they are dead. Nobody looks for the dead. But who are the nobodies who hide from the world, unable to stand the pain and the leftovers of war. Some are forgotten.Some have forgotten.Some want to forget. Will the Princess be rescued? Will He?
1. Chapter 1

**The Fisher King and the Princess of Silence**

**Author**: **Howlynn**  
><strong>Realm<strong>: _The Hunger Games_, Suzanne Collins  
><strong>Story Title<strong>: The Fisher King and the Princess of Silence  
><strong>Summary<strong>: _They were dead to the world. They were nobody. They were monsters. What happens in the realm of the Fisher King as he finds out that his past may have no wish to be in his future? His Grail may be lost for all time. _  
><strong>CharacterRelationships**: Finnick Odair, Prim Everdeen and Cinna in madness.

I** Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author notes**: I know I should not begin a new story when I have so many going now. But, I really wanted to try my new computer and my updated software – you have not lived until you work on a laptop without a U key and still think MS '95 is too good to give up.(yes, I have software older than some of you brilliant little sweethearts out there) Wow 2010 has pictures rather than menus within menus. I won't keep boring you with my joy, but if you like this story and you give it a ton of reviews – we shall play out the alive people story – if it gets zippo for lack of lemon in the Tea, I will keep at the THE LIE, THE MOCKINGJAY AND THE CHAMELEON(bonus material), and PLEASURE TO BURN.

**Warning:**_ may contain any of the following ingredients –(ugly people, language. Spoilers, Sexual discussion, ghosts, Malice, reference to past violence, sadness, dead characters being discussed, alcohol use, caffeine use, unintended exhibitionism, disfigurement, pain, hate, Avarice, sloth, naked people, medical procedure torture, reference to possible non-consent and prostitution No, nothing like my normal menu!) If you have any allergies to these subjects, please take appropriate measures for your maturity level. Side effects may include but not be limited to: useless searching for the hottie parts, watering of the eyes, grouchiness, eye strain from trying to read between the lines and unwanted oral or nasal leakage._

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><p>This is a terrible place full of sorrow and kindness. It will be better when they come. It will be explained then to him and all will be better. He will have a life someday, when they come for him and explain who he is. For now he is Bly, Pirate of the Restoration Center. He is the man who waits without a face. He is a Pirate King, a Fisher King, The King of Hope, The Seeker of the Grail. He is nobody.<p>

They will come. He doesn't know who they are, but he hopes for them. He pretends sometimes that they are good people who love him on the days he hopes for a place out there. He only pretends. It is a nice dream to imagine that something beyond these walls could look upon him, much less love him. At night, when truth must be told and the fear the dark rules his kingdom, he knows that nobody is ever coming for him.

They might be dead. It might be, all his people are gone and that is why nobody has searched for him. It might be some unpleasant answer. Maybe he is a bad person and knowledge will lead to trouble. He feels like he was a bad man, wherever he came from. Only a bad man could have ended up covered in wounds, partially eaten, and left to die in a sewer. They told him the eye was too far gone to be rescued, but the rats had left him one at least. Missing the eye, most of one leg and any feeling in his left arm, was not the most terrible part. Even his memory being no more than surgery, pain and endless questions without any answers is not the worst part. The bad part, for him, is that everyone is terrified of him.

He is sickened by the image of the monster he sees when they allow him to see the results of his latest graft or surgery. He didn't blame them for being afraid. He would be afraid too if those who lived here were not all the forgotten monsters of a war he could not recall. Some of them, those who could still speak, would tell him terrible things about life out there in the beyond and the yesterday of his lost years. Some had family who came to collect them once they were put back together. They were embraced and herded out to a new fresh someday. He didn't have the ability to cry anymore, but his heart longed for a someday, someday. Maybe, if he believed hard enough, it could happen.

Life was not all terrible. He still had his voice, even if his speech was garbled and he could see and still move around. There were many people who looked forward to being near him. He may have lost some unknown past, but maybe it was easier then what they faced. The burned ones had a harder time. They are as hideous as he is, but they knew things that hurt worse than his own lot. They remembered being normal. They remembered the before times and it was almost worse for them than anyone.

Some of them had names that were real, not made up by staff. Some of them had hope for someday, but it made now hard. As time passed, the ones with a someday ahead trickled away, leaving more and more nobodies like him. He made a special effort to offer the hope of his lies and good natured antics to the other nobodies. It was his mission to make his world, for he claimed the green halls and shiny floors as his kingdom, a little better. Each day, each hopeless endless day, the Fisher King awakes in the morning with purpose. A lopsided smile here or a giggle there were his wealth and glory.

There were so many here, who had nobody to talk to. He made the best nobody in the world, because as they would tell their story, he could imagine it was his too. He discovered that he could read and for those who no longer had sight, he would slowly read the books of the old ones to the young patients and let them live a moment of dancing in the sun or a dream of adventure. They let him remember, while he helped them forget that terrible things had happened in the world.

His voice moved upon the pages with care, though they were used to his prosthetic lips getting in the way of sound more than mastering it, he tried to make each word clear in case he had a someday, somewhere out there searching for him. He would be the best he could be, just in case something could love a monster.

The staff did love him. He was almost too good to be true. He could look into someone's soul, with his one green eye and find a way to make even a normal love him. Even though his head was an oozing glob of ugly, so shocking it would have made people run screaming if he'd been on the public streets of the capitol, somehow after a few days, his eye stopped being repulsive as it wept it's drops of synthetic tears he had to administer every few moments to keep his vision from being stolen by the dryness that came from loss of tear ducts. Even ugly did not hide that he was special. One moment those around him spoke to a monster, and suddenly they only saw a friend. He was damaged beyond total repair, he would never look normal, but they did hope that eventually they could give him some measure of life. If only they could help him remember his name, there might be a chance that someone he knows survived the rebellion.

They had published his description and approximate age, just as they had for each of the unknown victims in the beginning. Some patients simply had nobody left, while others either were abandoned by all or were no longer recognizable to anyone. They had hoped to match DNA files but as the capitol fell, many records were destroyed or were uselessly garbled in script error safety bombs, making them unreadable. The whole world was being built again, and these people were the last care on many people's mind. Mostly they were capitol citizens who were the most damaged, but the burn ward was full of children who had been in the wrong place as the Mockingjay made her last stand. The parents of these children died fighting with or running from one side or the other and it wasn't even worth sorting out any longer.

The Capitol was under new management. The Mockingjay was insane. The old ways were in the past and everyone was broken hearted by the losses. There were new stars rising as old ones were honored in death or faded from the minds of the hopeful new world. This place was peaceful in battle. The wars fought here took more bravery and soul than anyone could imagine. The staff fought to do painful things to bring the end of suffering, with skill and calm demeanor. The patients tried to suffer each indignity of the day without wishing that this hell could end every single second. When nobody died on the ward that day, it was a battle won.

The King felt tired as he made his last stops of the day. He looked forward to his tubing because he was feeling empty. He had no lower jaw when he'd arrived and even now, he preferred the tube feedings to the painful attempt to chew actual food. Soon they would insist he eat again, but for now, the simple ease of nourishment dumped into his stomach was as pleasurable to him as the sugar one nurse slipped him for his tea when she could. He did crave sweet things and he had an uncontrollable urge to steal sugar cubes when they were offered to the little ones with medicine dripped on them.

He had brought gifts to some, from his little trip out into the courtyard with his attendant today. For Pencils in Kok23 he had brought him three pretty leaves. The man was crazy but could draw anything, when he wasn't screaming. To Harper over in Jnd6 he had found a pretty bit of gravel to add to his collection. A larger stone went to a lady who spent her day balancing stones in strange stacks to keep her mind off her lost children and her lost legs. She was nearly ready to be fitted with new legs, but she had only begun speaking again a few weeks ago, so her eligibility had been delayed until it could be determined that they would be of benefit to her.

His greatest prize was for the one everyone called Princess. She was another nobody, but she has had a terrible time. She lost her sight in the blast as well as her hearing. Her skin had been charred and melted. Even her nasal cartilage had melted and as she sucked the flame down her throat, her vocal cords had been forever damaged. Unable to hear, speak or see, there was no way to explain the pain, where she was, or even what had happened. She was isolated and terrified of something more than could be understood. She had somehow begun to understand the routines of her world and relax a little. She had been found in a morgue pile on the third day after the fall of Snow. They had no idea how she had been missed, yet her rescuers cried for the mercy of her death, seeing how very little life was left in her tiny frame.

Princess is burned on 70% of her body and she should have no ability to fight. Yet she did fight. Maybe that was why she had caught his pirate eye and he'd searched so hard for a way to comfort her. Nobody was as alone as she was. They had pulled her chary boots off her little feet to find them undamaged by all the horror. That was where he had begun. He had held her foot and patted it, caressed it and rubbed it in comfort.

He knew she looked forward to his visits because she would sigh and for as long as he would pet her little feet, she would be still. Someone touching her in a way that did not end in excruciation pain was all she lived for, for weeks. They had developed a style of communication that grew more complex each day. If she snapped her jaw open and closed in tiny nibbles, she was thirsty. An airy Haaahaaahaaa sound meant don't stop, rub my feet more. If she nodded, she was hungry and if she nodded and wiggled her toe, she wanted Him. The nurses would come get him and she often could convey to him, what they did not understand.

This had once been the premier center of beauty and modification in the capital city. The Capitol is different now. There is no longer a staff of nearly 2000 doctors available to do full body polishing or erase every tiny scar existing on the human body. There are no longer two thousand doctors in the whole city. They have seeped away from the glitz and found more honorable craft simply saving lives and being doctors instead of pawns of beauty and fashion. They operate on a need basis now. No extensive rebuilds are to be performed and no unnecessary procedures will occur until survival is established. It is a rougher place than what some of the people were accustom to. Once people went to sleep and awoke in perfect health and beautiful.

Once all could be perfect, now alive was considered fashionable enough. She was out of the woods finally. Tomorrow they intended to restore her hearing. They hoped to fix her eyes someday as well, but that could wait. Her ears were considered a minor procedure, and would be combined with yet another grafting. Her face would be a little less terrible after today as well, for they could finally remove the facial halo that had kept her skull in place since her face had been pulverized during her injury. They had wished they had pictures of her. They gave her a bit if paper and a marker. She had written P – R – I – N. She has been called Princess by all since that day.

He reaches out and slides his hand under her sheet, softly playing piggy with her toes in their normal ritual. She reaches for him with her newly bandage free fingers and he takes her hand and pats it, brings it to his rubbery lips and kisses her fingers. She made her hissing sound and wiggled her fingers at him. Instead of more kisses, he places his gift into her hand.

She held it to her face and sighs in joy. The scent is strong in this odorless place of nothing. She swallows and swallows. He knows he has pleased her. He could not wait to speak to her and know she could hear him. He would read to her and help her pass the time. Someday they would make her lovely again and she would have normal. For this moment she had him, and he had her and it was nice to know the gentle touch of a friend. Princess did not fear her Fisher King. At least she didn't' fear him yet. For now, he was as beautiful as the scent of the purple hyacinth he had found in bloom in the old formal garden going to wild without its team of fussy slaves.

He forced his lips to smile and she did her best to return it as her little soft fingers touched his strange feeling mouth. Taptaptap and she points at the flower, ' Give my flower a drink King of Smiles.'

"Of course I will, Princess. Your wish is my wish and someday will come. Today I am slave to your flowers." He says sweetly just as if she could hear him.

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><p>Let me know what you think - - zee squeeky wheel gets zee grease -zee story with zee most whine gets zee cheese - where you lead I shall follow -<p>

Blink blink Flash Flash and all that other CB trash - Call me Howlynn - my doors are shiny how's my windshield? Keep that bubble gum on the run and may all your coops light the big word...

(hehehe - I will translate on a future chapter - care to give it a try?)


	2. Chapter 2

**The Fisher King and the Princess of Silence2**

**Author**: **Howlynn**  
><strong>Realm<strong>: _The Hunger Games_, Suzanne Collins  
><strong>Story Title<strong>: The Fisher King and the Princess of Silence2  
><strong>Summary<strong>: _They are dead yet they hope for someday. Is someday closer than they want? Is dead enough for now?_  
><strong>CharacterRelationships**: Finnick Odair, Prim Everdeen .

I** Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author notes**: Thank you _ EStrunk_ Brandis _AnonLF _ HI_and very much to Ellenka the sweet girl across the sea in the beautiful fairytale realm of Slovakia _Marble Sharp_

**Warning: This may be an addictive substance, please check with your personality profile before beginning the program. Not responsible for any feelings of feelings you may experience.**

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><p>He waited for things. He is good at waiting. Sitting in the shadows of the lobby, sometimes he waits for days, watching the outsiders who are brave enough to walk in the realm of monsters. Searching the features of the normals, he likes to see the skin of those magical pretty beings as their faces move smoothly, skin capering with grace and thoughtless expectation of expression. Normals, like movie stars in the flesh, are worth watching, so long as they could not see him.<p>

Skin so smooth and perfect, they don't know what they have. They have everything. Memory is as elusive as skin to him. They know the name of the fathers who sired them and what a woman feels like. They know the names of their lovers. He must have known those things once. He must have been one of them and not known his blessings. Once he could cry with them and blink and be seen.

Today he waits for her. He sits in his normal spot in the shadows and he watches the television and the people. They can't see him. The TV people can't, but the lobby tourists choose not to see the nightmare in the corner. If they look, they might have to accept, horrible things can happen. A truth too threatening and terrifying, the normals went to the desk without more than a side glance and eyes determined to dart away before comprehending that life could be so terrible. He watches them come and go and return again.

It is something to do to keep his mind off his Princess. He has been here, unmoving since he had watched them wheel her away. She knew it was about her ears and for once she had not been so frightened. He could spell things to her on the back of her hand if he didn't try to say anything too long.

The nurse at the desk smiles at him and waves him over, "She is just fine. All went well."

His heart races as he pulls his face into the smile he saves for special. It hurts a little to smile, so he doesn't make the effort if it doesn't count. "She will hear me now?" he asks with excitement.

The nurse smiles, then nods. She looks at her screen. "Both ears were simple. Her halo is gone and by tomorrow you might be allowed to take her to the garden, if the weather is nice."

"What about the grafts? They will have to be wrapped."

"Yes, but these were on her lower legs. Her facial structure is nearly finished, so she will be mobile finally." The phone rings and the nurse speaks into her headset, no longer giving him her attention.

He waved his thanks to her as she answers the questions of the caller. He stands in the hall by her door as they bring her down and settle her in the room. Hours pass as he waits. He has gotten better at standing on the prosthetic. There are still balance issues, but he has a cane. He thinks the cane gives him a rakish King of pirates flare.

It is hard to decide if she is awake or not sometimes. All is dark and quiet, except when she escapes the pain and falls into dreams. She dreams of Buttercup the most. The silent darkness has no relief when she is trapped in consciousness. She has figured out she is in a hospital. She doesn't remember what happened, but she does know that she must be careful. Time has no meaning, but the last thing she knew was that there was war and she was probably on the wrong side. She feared for her sister. Katniss must be dead or she would be here.

She wondered about all the people she knew. She wished for her mother, but she would not tell them anything until she knew who she was dependent on. The kind one, who understood her, had given her some hope. He had spelled 'ear fix' to her.

The sound is soft, but it took her breath as she confirms it is real. It sounded like an oxygen machine with its repetitive peep sound. Her hands went to her head automatically and for once there was something besides material and cage is gone. Her fingers touch her face for the first time and as they convey the damage, she shivers in horror. The nerves fire strangely and yet there is no familiar contour.

She feels him take her hand and his voice is raspy and garbled, but she knows it is her friend. The torments of this place have only one small ray of light, and he is speaking to her now. Her ears have not listened for so long the noise doesn't automatically get translated into meaning.

"Princess. It is me. Your bringer of flowers and footy rubs."

She asks for a drink and he talks, telling her all the things she must want to know. She was hurt in the war almost a year ago. She is getting better. There is nothing to worry about and they will get her sight back as soon as they can. They could not find out who she was, so they could not contact her loved ones. He tells her all he can think of about the world.

He brings a pad of paper to her and shows her how to write questions using her other fingers as a guide. Her first question is a surprise to him. She asks about famous people.

Where is Katniss?

"The lady who was the Mockingjay?" he asks. "She won, but there was something that went bad in her head. Her sister died and she went insane. She killed the new president, but nobody had the heart to punish her. Nobody knows where she is. They say she has disappeared," he says.

Haymitch?

"I don't know who that is," he says with regret. "Is that you Daddy or a family member?"

Abernathy from 12. Mentor.

"Oh. Him. I don't know. He is gone too. Some say he gave up when she went crazy. Hey none of them matter. Let's talk about your family. They must be worried," he tells her.

How bad am I? They must think I am dead. Peeta. Gale. Finnick. Where are they?

He explains as best he can. She must have been a war fan. She knew all the names. He tried to get her to list her family names, but she kept naming off famous people. "We have called you princess for so long. What is your name?"

Rose

Dinner arrives and he feeds her the tiny bites as she listens to both he and the television. The first moment she is allowed outside, he is the one to take her. She is sad he has no memory. Everyone she knows seems to be dead or insane, so she isn't sure who has life worse. She wonders about Rory most of all, but the thought of any of them seeing her like this deters her from admitting who she is. They think she is dead. They have thought this long enough that it might cause them more pain if they find out she isn't.

Her mother must be long gone to her dark place. Katniss is crazy. Dear sweet Finnick Odair is dead. Nobody knows about Peeta or Haymitch. She would rather die than know Rory has moved on or that he hasn't. She would rather die than see pity in his face. She would not see it, but his voice would tell her. For now she will stay dead. It doesn't sound like she has much to go back too. It would be better to be dead until she is better. She would be a burden on them. She feels her face obsessively, trying to understand what she looks like. He holds her while she cries and says nice things to her. She deflects her friend's questions about family telling him they are gone.

You? Tell me about you.

They pass the first few days catching up on all the questions they had been unable to ask until now. There are the terrible therapy sessions. They give her a device that makes her throat tickle, but she can make the sounds to talk and she is only stopped by the length of battery time, the wiggler as she deems it, allows. Having her hearing and being out of the cage that had been attached to her head made life much simpler. She was even allowed to take a salt mist rinse and it made her feel so good, she couldn't help but smile. It was warm mist, not a shower, but it made her skin smell so sweet and clean, she could have cried for the pleasure of it.

She learns to do things in darkness and always his hand is there to guide her. She cries in his arms as they sit in his room, watching the memorial of Finnick Odair. His body had never been recovered and so at the anniversary of the fall, he is to be honored.

"You sure you want to hear this Princess Rosie? You are falling apart and it has not even started." Bly the Fisher King, known as Bly Fisher now to the staff, sits watching her. He stands and adjusts the sound on the television.

"You must tell me everything you see," she buzzes.

He sighs and sits back down. "There are a lot of pictures of the man. He is just a boy covered in blood. Now they show him with a trident held over his head. He is pretty and has long reddish hair. Now his hair is shorter and they are showing him with lots of people, girls kissing him, and he is shown with a little old lady. Maybe, his Granma or something. Pictures of him older and he looks strange. His eyes are dead. He wears make up and looks very shallow. He barely wears clothing anywhere. He is at the president's dinner in a bow tie and trousers only. He is in a see through tuxedo and he may as well be naked. He is shown at a wedding. The lady is in a dress meant for a Goddess. It…" His voice falters, and he feels dazed as the woman is shown in her mourning cloths holding a pretty baby. His heart lurches in his chest and he has to get a drink of cool water.

"I remember the dress. It was made by Cinna for Katniss. What? What did you see?" Rosie begs for him to continue.

"The wife of himself has a wee baby. She is so lovely. I think I should know her name but it is not there. Mrs. Odair and her son Finnigan, the screen reads. It says the boy never met his father. Isn't that sad? They showed her walking off the train for the ceremony. There are many people around her. A lady with dark spiky hair who looks mean."

"Johanna Mason. She was friends with Annie," she says.

"annie….Johanna and Annie?" His lips form the words and he can smell something like stale air and the aroma of boiled okra. He shakes his head at the phantom odor. "Finnigan," he says, slowly tasting the sea in the word.

"Is Enobaria there? She should be there too."

"How do you know? They just flashed her name and you had it right. You must have followed the celebrities very closely little Rose. Oh they are showing him in battle now. I am surprised they would let such a prissy man fight," Bly says then laughs.

Rosie buzzes, "Finn was not prissy. He was brave and kind and don't you ever say anything bad about him. Not ever. He saved Katniss and Peeta. It isn't fair that he died."

"You act as if you knew them, Rose. They are all the same. Those old victors liked to kill and they have been rewarded for it in every way. I can admire them for the rebellion, but they are not more special than us. We have suffered and they do not make great celebrities and throw funeral specials for us."

"You don't know what they went through. Just tell me what you see, Bly."

"I see a lot of fuss being made for one man when all you children were burned and they don't care. The woman should… should look at the fact that he, her precious Finnick, made the choice to risk his life and lost it for his belief. What of you and the other children of the capitol? How did you matter so little when none of you were allowed to choose?" He is almost angry with the world for letting children suffer for a fate they did not select.

"You don't know anything. Don't judge what you don't know."

"Aye. Fine then. Not speaking ill of the dead. There is the Haymitch fellow you asked about. What a sleaze bag he looks like. He has a little frail girl on his arm. Oh that is the crazy one. The great Mockingjay herself. Doesn't look so great to me. She wears dark clothing and hat and sunglasses. Oh she was burned, like you. Rose are you …" He reaches out and holds her.

"Just tell me what you see? Please?" Rose asks again.

He nods, knowing she can't see him do it, but he continues telling her what is happening. "The guests are being seated. There is that Peeta. He has taken a place in the front. He is going to speak."

The handsome tall man with the shock of blond hair is speaking, and Bly Fisher, stays quiet. He doesn't watch the television, he watches the girl who is far too full of sorrow for these people on television for them to be strangers.

After dinner he sits in her room and his mind plays with many thoughts. He sits on the edge of her bed. He lifts her hand and holds it gently. "It is time you tell me. Rose? Who are you?"

"I can't."

"You can and you will. You cried for the Odair himself, as if you knew him and it has occurred to me that the Mockingjay has a dead sister by name of Primrose. You wrote Prin not Prim, but now you say you are a rose and yet you do not like roses. Could it be you are the Primrose lost in the fire? Why would you want to hide it?"

"Because. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want them to know if I don't get better. Please don't tell. Please. They would take me away. You know they would. I would never even see you. I was supposed to be a doctor. I can't be one like this. I will tell them someday, I promise, but not yet. " Rose reaches out to him and rests her head on his shoulder.

"Someday. We all need a someday little Rose. I will keep your secret for now. But only until you are better. Then you must tell them. You must. Even if you don't look like you want to," he says.

"When I see, we will decide. Bly you can't tell. Promise me."

"They would fix you faster. We are the charity patients you know. If you told them who you are, they would put you to sleep and spare no expense. It is foolish to wait for a trickle of kindness when you can have the sea." He tells her with regret. He can't believe she could be one of those glitzy people who the world would not allow to suffer, yet he would wish to spare her pain in a heartbeat.

"No. For them to see me like this. I can't. I just can't Bly. Would you want your family to see you like this? I mean what if you have kids? Could you live with them looking at you as if it is…"

"I had not considered the thought of children. I don't feel like a father. No. I am certain I had only friends. Maybe a girl cared for me, or brothers and sisters. I fear my past Princess Rosie. What if I was someone bad? You have all the answers to you. They have thought you were dead from day one? Why has nobody looked for me?" He looks out the window at the sparkling capitol lights.

"Maybe they think you are dead too?" She reaches out to him, wanting the comfort of his touch to ground her.

"Maybe, whoever I was, is dead and should be left that way. I was in a sewer, left to be eaten alive by rats and mutations. Either I was a coward, hiding with the Avox people, or I was a terrible person that was left to such a fate. I don't want to know anymore. I mourn no longer for a life I feel no part of. This is all I know Rosie. My kingdom may be one of sorrow, sweet one, but it is a kingdom without regret. " He holds her hand as he carefully explains.

"I don't believe that. I wish I knew you before. I know you were good. I know, just like I knew Haymitch is good and Finnick was good and Peeta loved Katniss and Johanna loves people more than she will ever tell them. You are no pirate Captain Bly. You were somebody nice then, just like you are now. There are people who love you out there. I know, because they love you here. You may not remember, but you are the same person. I th—" Her wiggler shuts down.

He smiles and takes the device from her fingers. He places it in the charging dock and sits back on her bed. "We should get you a spare unit. You talk a great deal, Princess Rose of the Prim. I do wish you will consider speaking to your family a little more. I am sorry for the loss of your friend, Finnick Odair. If you say he was more than a frivolous waste of humanity, I will bow to your opinion. I will judge all of your people with the love your heart contains. Maybe, you visiting me, after this place is no longer your home, will be part of my someday." He kisses her on her forehead and wishes her good night.

He haunts the halls of the Kingdom of Sorrow. At night it is a dangerous place. Marauders from the neighboring kingdom of Remorse can attack viciously if the Palace is left unguarded. King Regret has many foot soldiers and the Pang of Conscience is a tenacious leader. Up and down the halls, the Fisher King keeps the hours of the night.

Haymitch Abernathy. Why did he think that drunken burn out would know what to do? Why did he want to call him of all people? Finnigan. A verse kept repeating in his mind like a cricket.

_**Finnigan oh Finnigan, of the fair wide water.**_

_**Barnacles and barmy girl, who only storms call daughter.**_

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><p><em>Yes Finnigan is spelled wrong with intent. Like Finnick. Yes, I wrote the verse too – It is hard to find poems for made up names spelled wrong. Barmy is an old word for crazy. Barnacles grow on ships and are a nuisance – like inconvenient love. A daughter of a storm is one who does not follow the expectations of the world yet lets emotions guide her life. You will find out why this is important in the next chapter. Of the fair (calm) wide water(sea) –The child born of a calm sea and love.<em>

_Please review – I really appreciate you all!_


	3. Chapter 3

**The Fisher King and the Princess of Silence3**

**Author**: **Howlynn**  
><strong>Realm<strong>: _The Hunger Games_, Suzanne Collins  
><strong>Story Title<strong>: The Fisher King and the Princess of Silence3  
><strong>Summary<strong>: _The Kingdom of Sorrow is invaded. Did the king bring the marauders who want to steal his Princess?_  
><strong>CharacterRelationships**: Finnick Odair, Prim Everdeen .

I** Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author notes**: Thank you for being patient – I have too many stories going on at once and each have their own backstory and AU canon bits to keep track of so I try to write each as they appear to me while other plot bunnies nibble my attention carrots – nothing is abandoned or forgotten.

**Warning: This may be an addictive substance, please check with your personality profile before beginning the program. Not responsible for any feelings of feelings you may experience.**

* * *

><p>The little Princess has spoken little more of her family, yet the King does get drabbles and bits from her when a broadcast is made. He takes her to visit the garden each day. She is very popular among the staff and patients. Crazy Pencils is especially fond of her and he made her a hood that hides most of her disfigurement in a brilliant glitzy dragon mask.<p>

Bly is mortified at first but the girl liked it so much that he had come to think of her as a little dragon full of magic and fun. They whisk around the halls, she in a wheeled chair terrifying the nurses and He clunking along on his prosthetic limbs. The invasion was his fault. He could not get that poem out of his head.

_Finnigan oh Finnigan of the fair wide water._

_Barnacles and barmy girl who only storms call daughter._

_Where you go I sail along in whelk, in ship, in sorrow,_

_The waters high_

_'ore muir folk Bly_

_Clip a wake tomorrow_.

_Finnigan oh Finnigan she knows yea soul is pitch_

_Sea whisp sight and sailor boy lost upon the timber witch_

_The waters deep_

_All muir do sleep_

_In darkest bottom ditch._

_Finnigan oh Finnigan fore love hath lost its charms ,_

_The sea shall guide you, once again to your fair maidens arms,_

_With faith you net_

_A kiss so wet,_

_And lost you'll be to harms._

The Kingdom of Sorrow was no place for a princess. They were fighting for funds in this place and there were no new eyes for now. She didn't seem to mind so much and told him to have faith. Bly didn't have faith. He had a plan.

She was asleep when he made the call. It was not easy. Connection to district twelve was something of a hit and miss adventure. Even using the kindly capitol operator and explaining he was war damaged, it took almost forty five minutes to get the call to complete. Bly sat listening to the phone ring and ring. He held on so long he'd forgotten how many rings had occurred, but it was so hard to get the call through he was determined to let it ring all night if need be.

"This had better be someone I like and the odds are not in your favor. You have ten seconds before I hang up." A grouchy voice demanded.

"I need your help." Bly says softly.

"Finnick?"

"No. I am calling in regard-"

There was a choking sound on the other end and then anger. "Who the hell are you?"

"I… I am called Bly Fisher and I am a resident of the charity ward of…"

"Go to hell. I don't give a damned and I am not known to be generous. Hock your sad tales elsewhere and don't call here again or I will come through this phone and rip your—"

"Primrose is here," Bly says loudly, hoping to keep the man from hanging up.

There was a pause. "What did you say?"

"I don't know if it is her, but I have reason to suspect that your mockingjay's sister is alive. She is terribly damaged and will not tell anyone, but she is my friend and I believe she is just afraid for her loved ones to see her. She needs money for surgeries, you see they do what they can for us, but they have so little to spread around," Bly tried to reason.

"So what do you expect here, that I will make a lavish donation on this… maybe?"

"No. Not at all. Mr. Abernathy, maybe I waste my time, but she speaks fondly of you and I thought perhaps if you happened to come here on a random charitable visit and she saw you, she would be unable to continue this secret. If she doesn't hold interest to you,I will try her sister, but she seemed so fragile on the television I thought you would be the one to contact first." Bly sighed heavily, "I am sorry to disturb you. I only wanted to get her help faster. I didn't—"

"She's been dead more than a year. Why did it take you so long to call?" Haymitch is in no mood to be fooled.

"She's burned horribly. You would understand if you just see her…"

"I will be there day after tomorrow. Don't you call anyone else? You leave this alone whoever the hell you are. Leave my Mockingjay alone. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir. I am not a scam artist. I only want to help her if it is true. You are really coming here?" Bly asks unable to contain his hopeful heart.

"I said I would, didn't I?"

"Yes, but you must not tell her I called. You must not allow her to know it was me. She is afraid. Please, promise you will not tell her I have…betrayed her." Bly is now in a panic that he's made a bad mistake.

Abernathy's voice is soothing and more friendly somehow, "Tell me something, Mr. Fisher. How did you know to call me?"

"I saw you on television. She spoke highly of you and I don't know. I just knew. It has been weighing on me that you would know for certain, one way or another. They had to postpone her eye operation yesterday, and I hoped that if anyone loved her, maybe it could be done quicker, " he admits sadly.

"If you are correct, I will see to your needs as well," Haymitch offers.

"No. I don't want that. I don't have anyone waiting. I am a waste of money. I will see you soon."

"As you wish. I will contact you as soon as I arrive."

They exchanged information and ended the call. Bly shivers and sobs, wondering if he's done the right thing. If she finds out it was him, she will never speak to him again. He may have just sabotaged his only hope of someday.

Bly waits in the lobby, skipping his physical therapy. When the tall victor walks in, Bly stands with his cane and waves him over. Haymitch's eyes sweep the monstrous appearance, but he pretends not to notice. Bly is amused at the man's ability to not even suck in his breath as he looks at him. They develop a plan and Bly leads him to where his darling princess sits listening for the birds outside. Her dragon mask flashes in the sun as she turns her head toward the sound.

"Bly? Who is with you?" she buzzes.

"Just a man who is visiting our ward. He wants to know how things are going here and is wondering if you would answer some questions," Bly says as casually as he can.

"I don't mind. Everyone is very nice here. What would you like to ask?" She smiles a little in the direction of her visitor.

"Hello, sweetheart," Is all the man said and the girl begins to shiver. She stands on her wobbly legs and reaches toward him.

"Haymitch? How did you find me?"

"Same way I do everything. I'm nosy." He smiles and blows his breath out trying to be calm.

"I should have expected it. I hoped you'd be too drunk." Prim says and wraps her arms around him. "It's you. You smell exactly the same."

Haymitch takes her in his arms and sobs. "You knew you couldn't hide out forever, Prim. Katniss needs you. My God Prim, she's been a cabbage since you have been away. How could you think you could leave us? You were always her strength." Haymitch is kissing her dragon head and there are tears freely flowing down his cheeks.

"Not like this? Haymitch, she can't see me like this. When I am better."

"Prim. It doesn't matter. If you thought she was dead, would you care?"

"No, but she would care for Peeta?"

Bly interjects, "There is a boy named Rory? "

Haymitch laughs. "Yes. You're Just like your damned sister, Prim. You let your little boy troubles rule your life? You would let her suffer? For fear that a boy might not think you are what…pretty?"

"No Haymitch. Useful. He would stay with me because he felt sorry for me. I can't be a doctor now?"

"Why the hell can't you?" Haymitch gruffly demands.

She reaches up and pulls her mask up. "I can't see for one thing and who would go to this for healing?"

He pulls her dragon hood the rest of the way off. Haymitch touches her cheeks and kisses her little scared face, even her grown over eye sockets. "Now, you just let ole Haymitch worry about those things. You're going to be fine. And your sister, well it is going to take me some time to prepare her. Now, I am going to be making a few arrangements and then you should pack your little things."

"I am leaving?"

"You're going to take her away?" Bly whispers.

Haymitch turns to him. "You are going too. I can't leave her best friend," he says kindly.

Bly stands, suddenly. "No. I can't leave here. This is my home. This is where I belong." His voice shakes with firm surety. "You can visit me. Someday." Bly twirls his cane and hurries out the door.

Prim is distraught, but she knows his voice and her Pirate King has a stubborn streak. "Oh Bly. I'm sorry, Bly!" she buzzes after him, hearing his lopsided steps echoing up the hall.

"Why can't I stay here?"

"Well, because your mother is in district four and her facility is the premier repository of all the latest surgery techniques and there is a doctor there who has created miracles. You alive is miracle enough to warrant his attention." Haymitch tells her this as he takes her little hands in his own. "Prim, your mother needs you. I promise we will help your friend too, whether he likes it or not."

Bly helps her gather her dried flowers and other small possessions. He is quiet and yet seems to be enthusiastic about her leaving. "This is all. I hear district four is a lovely place. I am so happy that you will be seeing your mother soon. Call me every day?"

"Of course I will. He says I can come back to visit after my eye surgery. I wish you would come with me?" she says holding on to him.

"You know I can't. I will not be a burden on your family and I have no place to go once they kick me out of here," He says softly.

"You have someplace now, Bly. Didn't you figure out that I am your someplace? I would have died here without you. I won't forget. Not ever."

"Even if you do, it is ok. I won't. I love you and you will always be Princess Rose to me. Good luck, sweet child."

"I love you too King of Pirates." She flops her mask back on and Haymitch smiles and nods at him. Then, he took her away.

Bly Fisher wandered his kingdom, lost to the sorrow that a someday had brought. She did call, and he discovered he could in fact cry.

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><p>Thanks for your reviews!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**The Fisher King and the Princess of Silence4**

**Author**: **Howlynn**  
><strong>Realm<strong>: _The Hunger Games_, Suzanne Collins  
><strong>Story Title<strong>: The Fisher King and the Princess of Silence4  
><strong>Summary<strong>: _The Kingdom of Sorrow is left in darkness without his princess. Bly Fisher, the pirate king, falls into depression._  
><strong>CharacterRelationships**: Finnick Odair, Prim Everdeen .

I** Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author notes**: Thank you for being patient – I am giving you some extra for sticking with this little AU story...

**Warning: This may be an addictive substance, please check with your personality profile before beginning the program. Not responsible for any feelings of feelings you may experience.**

* * *

><p>The Fisher King waited for her calls. Sometimes Haymitch, the marauder, called but he did offer good news. She was going to see and speak again. They were working on making her skin look good enough to look normal with makeup. She would never look like she had once, but she would soon be meeting up with her poor broken sister. The months went by painfully slowly and sometimes he was sure she would never call him again. The first time he'd heard her voice, he'd lost his for at least ten minutes.<p>

She prattled on about the news, and how wonderful everyone had been. She misses him. Primrose is going to be on TV when she will be reunited with her sister. Will he come? He answers her, no.

Bly watchs the event on television. He sees her there, looking beautiful and perfect for the first time. No, you could not have recognized her from the girl she'd been once, but she looks like them. Normal. She looks like a real person again and he stares at her in pure joy, knowing he'd done the right thing. The sister embraces her and his heart melts for the happy girls.

He'd just had another procedure and somehow they were going to fit him for a prosthetic eye. He is embarrassed that he is being funneled money that could have helped someone else more. Life had not been easy here, he had not realized how he'd come to depend on her. The Kingdom went to bramble and thorn as he stared out the window and searched his broken mind for a glimmer of any part of him. There is nothing there and he begins to lose his cheery false hope of someday.

There is no hope for him. He will leave this place and have to make his way into a world of nothing. He is nothing. There is nothing for him out there. There is nothing for him in here either. He is disappearing.

A day came in which she did visit. He was terribly frightened and sure she would never want to set eyes on him again after she sees what a monster he is.

He'd been up all night pacing, too excited to breathe and too full of fear to sleep. He imagined a pretty little girl, smiling at him then screaming in horror.

He turns and there she stands, arms out and not the least bit shy of him. He blinks at her proud that he now can. She giggles and he is in her arms, relieved to see her whole. "You're so beautiful. You always were, but I am happy for you. Did you see the boy yet?"

She nods. Her smile tells him it was better than he could have hoped for her. "He loves me." She hides her face in his shoulder for a second, then looks at his face for the first time."No more pirate! They matched you perfectly!" she exclaimed.

"Oh it was just stock. Left over from the capital." He laughs. His smile is easier now that he has a permanent jaw.

"Yes. It was from the old capital stock. Called Finnick Odair green, I believe." Haymitch stood leaning on the doorframe, watching the man as if waiting for some admission.

"Well It works just fine, so I don't care if it is orange and pink," he says with a cock of his head.

"I have been reading your file, Mr. Fisher. It says you have no memory of your life before."

"Haymitch! Stop it. I told you," Prim hisses with anger.

"I only want to help him Prim," Haymitch says softly.

"I am settled with it. I know I have darkness back there. Do me the kindness of leaving it alone."

"I don't mean any—" Haymitch begins confused.

"Is my Dragon girl here?" Pencils wheels himself into the room and it is chaos.

Abernathy lets out a groan and nearly falls trying to get himself in the face of the man in the chair. "Cinna? Cinna by damnation you are here?"

"It's you! Haymitch it's Him! Cinna? Oh, how could I not have known!" Prim squeals.

Pencils is miffed but laughs and chortles as if this happens to him all of the time. "I don't know him but I am so happy you see him!" He says grinning.

Haymitch looks at him. "Katniss will never believe this. Cinna do you know me?"

"Of course. You belong to my girl on fire. You drink." He says in a dizzy far off voice.

"Yes, I do. Cinna. Do you know what happened to you? How did you get here?"

"I have always been here. Just like Finnick." He says and hugs them more.

"Finnick Odair?" Haymitch glances up at Bly.

"Of course. He's lost his mind you know." Cinna whispers loud enough for people in the hall to hear.

Bly laughs. "He's confused. That's all. It is a joke you know? He thinks it is funny to call me that, because I am hideous. It isn't true." Bly assures them and glares at Pencils, wondering who this Cinna is that they have decided they know.

"Bly. I don't know if he's as far away from the mark as you say. The first time I heard your voice. It nearly gave me heart failure. It is rather strange that your eye color would be such a match to that name…don't you think?" Haymitch studies him and glances at Prim who is grinning from ear to ear.

"No. Anyone could match the eye color. Please. Just leave me alone." Bly doesn't understand his anger, but he doesn't want these people to pretend they know him. He doesn't want to be Finnick Odair. He is just Bly Fisher. He is nobody.

"But if you are Finn—" Prim says sweetly.

"I am not. Stop saying that. I am not him. Now leave me alone. Just leave me alone!" He shouts the last part as he flees from the room. He knows this facility better than anyone and hooking rights and lefts, he puts distance between the visitors and himself. How dare they come in here and make fun of him.

Finnick Odair was a victor. He was a murderer and a playboy who had no love. Prim liked him, but she was young. He left his wife and baby to fight and got himself killed. He would not allow that poor woman to be put through the horror of a mistake. He didn't remember them at all and it wouldn't help anyone. Even if it were true, he didn't want that someday. He didn't want to be that horrible person from the television, who had no soul in his eyes.

Bly wandered around the empty floors waiting until enough time passed that he knew they would leave. He didn't mean to hurt their feelings, but he could not go back and let them convince him of a lie. It was a lie.

Late in the night he went back to his room. They had taken Pencils with them this time. Robbers in his kingdom. He didn't hear from the girl for a week. By that time he'd managed to have a raging infection. He wasn't fighting it very hard and he could see the worry in the kind nurse's face. He'd picked up some bug while wandering in the abandoned sections of the hospital. He let his eyes close, realizing that the his royal personage, had found his someday.

"We didn't have anyone else to call. He misses her terribly. We thought maybe it would help him fight. We tried the dna match, but we are sorry, Mr. Abernathy, all of the Odair files were corrupted."

Primrose Everdeen sat in the familiar room. She had traveled here with Rory Hawthorne. He had traveled on to district two to visit his older brother. She had been offered her old room and she felt at home here. Though she didn't recognize a soul by sight, she recognized footsteps, sometimes smell and often the voice of those around her.

Her pirate king was Finnick Odair once upon a time. She knew it in her heart. She had known him when he went crazy for Annie back in district 13. Of course until she saw him, it had not dawned on her. The eyes. The playful little boy. The kind hearted man. She had known him before. She spoke to him and told him all the things she remembered about him, hoping he would dream of them and remember.

The ocean. It is all around him. He is home. The mermaid will come now. Only the mermaid can pull him down to the bottom of the sea and let him sleep there safe and sound. In his fever he remembers things but they are just distant flashes of another person's life that he doesn't know. He remembers being broken because they hurt the mermaid. He remembers a blond boy who must have drowned on a mountain somewhere. There were other people who he didn't know. It was all a jumble and he couldn't escape.

There is an old woman in his dreams and he didn't remember her, but her piercing eyes fell on him and she shook her head. "Coward. I never knew you to be a coward. Stupid as the day is bright, but not a coward." She said no more but disappeared into the fog, leaving him with a broken heart.

"Finnigan Oh Finnigan!" the mermaid called. He searched the water but could not see her.

A man with white hair and dead blue eyes smiles at him. "I win. I always win, boy. You should have known it by now. You lost something. You lose and you lose." The cold man laughs at him and somehow he would hurt his mermaid.

There was a pretty room and he hated it. The only good thing in the room was the sugar cubes. He ate them and it brought memories of coffee which he loved. Coffee made it so he could do the bad things. He had to stay awake to keep Annie safe. It was only his soul that he gave up for her. It was gone now and the world was a better place without him.

He opened his eyes and she was there. "Princess Rose," He whispers.

"You have been sick, Finnick," she said softly.

He nods. "It may be true. But it doesn't matter if it is. I don't remember them and what he was loved for no longer exists. He no longer exists, Prim." He pats her hand.

"Finnick Odair you called Haymitch and you think I am keeping your secret over something as stupid as the way you look?" she hisses.

He looks at her. "How is Annie?"

"She isn't good Finn. They keep trying to take Finnigan from her. Johanna lives there now. You have to stop being a coward and you have to try." Prim says.

"No I don't. I don't have to be loved in pity or burden them. Imagine my son, off to school, having to point me out as his father. No woman could love this and from what I remember, he didn't deserve her anyway. He was a cad. He was a murderer and he is dead. If you insist on doing this to me. Then I have to ask you to leave." Finn says in such pain that Prim wraps her arms around him and comforts him.

"It's ok. You don't have to do anything before you are ready ok? Just at least think. You were all she had left, Finn. I love you and I still know how you feel, but not one person cared how I looked. I promise. Not one. Rory was so mad at me for being worried about how I looked. He was mad at me for being selfish and making him live extra days not knowing. I bet she would love you right now. Even if she didn't know you were her Finnick. "Prim stood up.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes. It does actually." Prim had a stubborn look on her face. "Finnick used to like to bet on weird stuff. Never the games, but he would bet on how people would act. He would bet on when Haymitch would take a shower, or if a nurse would touch her nose while giving someone a shot. He would bet that a roach could outrun a green-hopper. So I am making a bet with you. I bet if we show up in district 4 and I introduce you to her, Annie will love you just like you are. If she doesn't, you stay Bly Fisher. But if she does, you have to meet Peeta's doctor and let him help you. "

Prim looks at him expectantly. "I am not going to bet on such nonsence." He turns his head away.

"I don't believe it. You were right all along. You aren't him. Finn was never such a coward." She doesn't stay. She blinks away tears and heads to her room.

He lays there in the quiet dark, thinking of her bet. He did want to go to district four. He didn't want to try to make a poor crazy girl love him. He would like to see his son in person. It wouldn't be too bad. She would never know and it would not hurt her. If he didn't try very hard, maybe Prim would leave him alone about it.

The next morning he waited for her to come. She didn't. He hung his antibiotics bag on the rolling pole and went to her room. She glared at him.

"I will do it. But she must not know. Nobody will know. I am just your monster friend from the hospital and Haymitch brought me there for some extra treatments. When my treatments are done. That is the end of it." He crosses his arms and glares at her right back.

"Deal. Nobody knows. And you might get your memory back being home." Prim throws her arms around him.

"I will do it then. But you better not ..do what I did to you."

Prim laughs, "I won't have to, silly old pirate!"

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><p>Well, I hope you like it - review and let me know - or even if you hate it - review and let me know.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

**The Fisher King and the Princess of Silence5**

**Author**: **Howlynn**  
><strong>Realm<strong>: _The Hunger Games_, Suzanne Collins  
><strong>Story Title<strong>: The Fisher King and the Princess of Silence5  
><strong>Summary<strong>: To the sea goes the King of Sorrow. Will the mermaid find him?  
><strong>CharacterRelationships**: Finnick Odair, Prim Everdeen .

I** Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author notes**: Thank you for being patient and thank you for the reviews! – as a reward – here is another update – hope you enjoy.

**Warning: This may be an addictive substance, please check with your personality profile before beginning the program. Not responsible for any feelings of feelings you may experience.**

* * *

><p>Finn is greeted by the air as if it welcomes him in its arms. His breath hung in his lungs in such pleasure he was almost unable to let it out. It is the air of life and it made the nerves in his toes buzz. Even though he didn't actually own toes any more, they pretended to be there at this moment. Finn closed his eyes and Prim had to nudge him to just get him off the train. He was off before she even knew where he was heading. He went down the hill to the sea. He didn't stop. He threw his cane onto the sand and clothing flew as he neared the surf. He splashed out into the waves.<p>

He tossed both of his prosthetics up onto the beach and he disappeared like a fish. Prim picked up the differently sized limbs and looked around at the people staring at her. She gathers his things and laughs. She walks to the sea wall and tucking the leg and the foot with half-shin behind her, she waits. And waits. And waits.

Finnick finally emerges just as the sun sets out on the water. Prim, smiles and brings his legs to him. He arose from the sparkling water a shadow against the light. Limp and stiffened arm and everything, she can, for an instant, see that impossibly beautiful man who had sacrificed himself to save her sister. Katniss had told the tale over and over. She smiles. He needed to hear it from her lips. She would see to it soon, but right now there was a smile on his face and he is beautiful.

"Feel better, Fisher King?" Prim asks.

"I don't know how I could have stayed away. I am home, Princess. That is my home."

"You were out there for over three hours."

"It felt like seconds. Can I swim every day? That will do me more good than any damned surgery." He says staring into the light like he can see heaven.

"So long as you don't have open wounds. It is harder for me. I can't get burned. But you can swim a lot. Are you ready to check in now?" Prim asks, the tired seeping in her voice.

"No first we eat. I can't stare hospital food in the face when there is real food about," he said sniffing the air.

His nose leads him to a street vendor. "I want Fried Sardine Grits and a double order of Calamari Fingers," he says with a smile. "Anything for you?"

"God no….I mean, no thank you, Bly," Prim says as the horrible sounding things are piled up on the deck of the fake fishing trawler street vendor.

Finn stands there burning his tongue trying to get at the Fried Sardine Grits. They are served on a stick, and he seems certain they have to be eaten while they still smoked with the hot oil. They smell horrid and he is making sex noises as he chomps with his mouth open trying to cool off the bites. His eyes roll in the back of his head in delight. Prim turns pink then on to red. She feels like tossing her sandwich she'd eaten on the train as she watches tentacles disappear down his throat with relish.

They stroll up the twilight avenue and Prim is sure this hill is much steeper up then down. Finn wears his hoodie along with dark glasses and a hat. People do second-glance him, but they don't blatantly stare. He seems perfectly oblivious to the few people who actually pay attention. This is his home and even though it isn't her idea of heaven, she is happy to see him enjoying himself. "Mother says you can get sick from eating the wares of street vendors."

"Please. Katniss told me stories of the Hob in 12 and how you all ate rats and dogs." He said without thinking.

Prim looked at him in wonder. "You remember Katniss?"

"Yeah. Kind of. She was sad with me. I don't know what about, but she used to tell me stories. Like strange things. Goat cheese, which I am sure would make me sick…"

"Lady wouldn't have made anyone sick. Her cheese was divine. And how would you know standing there eating creepy looking tentacles and fish grits." Prim looked at his offering as if it were pooh and entrails.

"It's great. Try one."

"NO."

He shrugs. "Your loss."

"I ate on the train."

"Oh we should go to the confectionery. They have taffy!" he said enthusiastically.

"F…Bly. Maybe tomorrow. My mom will be worried," she says though she hated to spoil this moment for him.

"Oh. Yeah. Sure. I should've thought." He tries to keep the disappointment from his voice.

"But tomorrow, I will get sunscreen and we will spend the day lurking through all your old haunts," Prim assures.

"Sounds good, Princess." He smiles at her. He's finished his smelly meal as they enter the cool hospital. Bly wads up his oil slicked papers and tosses them in a nearby trashcan. They are greeted by Prim's mother who wears a smile with an edge of worry under it.

"I am so pleased you decided to join us." Dr. Everdeen said.

"Hey you're a doctor?" Bly says.

"Momma had one of those times that she had to keep her mind off things. Like me, mostly, I guess. She passed all her board exams within three months of my…death." She grinned at the word. "And they put her here because nobody else would come to District Four to start from scratch in a place that shunned hospitals all together," Prim explained brightly.

"Well, we are a stubborn lot. Can be a handful if you don't know how to gentle us a bit," Bly said softly.

"Yes. I recall being your nurse Mr. O—"

"Fisher!" Prim and he said at the same time.

"Yes, of course." She smiled sheepishly, "Let me get you settled, Mr. Fisher."

Prim followed her mother and Bly toward his quarters. It was not a typical facility. The room was large and though the bed was typical hospital, flexi-cot, it looked very home like. There were lovely ground-sand floors that sparkled, homespun rugs, local art and warm beach colors. It is a soothing room.

"Wow. I can see the sea from here. I can see it every day." Bly Fisher breathed in thankful surprise.

"We thought you might like it," Dr. Everdeen said kindly. "Prim, you have sunburned. I will let you help him then I need to see to that."

Prim watches her mom walk down the hall as her Fisher King fingered the tables and kept glancing out the window in delight. "Are you glad you came so far?"

He turns to her and bows, flopping his hat to sweep the ground. "I will never forget who cared enough about a nobody to find me a someday."

"You're not a nobody, you are Captain Bly the pirate king. You saved me and my sister." She hugs him and laughs as he takes off his legs and dumps little piles of sand all over the floor.

"Sorry, but man that's better. Sand is not the fake legged friend."

"I will see you for breakfast. I missed you too, you know," Prim said softly.

He reached up and patted her hand. "I was lost. We must never be parted for so long again," he whispers to her. She nods and kisses him on the forehead. She does it softly and slowly, so he knows she doesn't find him repulsive and never will.

He is disgusted that the window doesn't open even a crack. He likes the swing chair in the shower and the way they use good towels, not blow dryers. The bed is the softest thing he's touched since his life started as he refers to it, even though he knows other things are beginning to flash in his mind. He has been one with the ocean on this day and he feels as if he could swim out to sea and live happily ever after. That is what he dreams.

Breakfast delights him, shrimp quiche and seaweed green bread. He can't believe how good it is. Prim brings him a steaming cup of coffee with a ton of sugar and he hops out of bed, sticks his legs on and stands at the window, letting his eyes feast on the sea.

"They have about two hour's tests first, and then we have the rest of the day if you like. Mother zapped me with burnblock." Prim tells him, joining him at the window and blowing on her own coffee.

He nods. He blinks at her and it is charming. "How do you like that? Takes some practice, but man it's better than trying to sleep with the mist mask."

"I still am so glad you can do that now. It is so amazing. I remember the way the drops smelled."

"Every time you'd almost fall to sleep , drip or Pssst. " They both chuckled at the mutual memory. Bly raked his hair, patchy as it was. "Feel this. How soft it is? Ocean water."

Dr. Everdeen walked in and without even a greeting began laying out his tests planned for the day. Finn sipped his coffee as he listened. She finished explaining the procedures and added, "I will be doing a DNA scan Mr. Fisher, I actually have you in my notes while I was learning the procedure back in 13. If you are who we think you are, we will have the answer soon enough."

"No." he looked at Dr. Everdeen "That isn't needed. No. It doesn't matter who I am. Not yet. I am here because she bet me, and I see the wonders she had. Now, I am nothing but a penniless vagabond and there will be no extras. Not even that. If it is needed, I accept. But, I am sorry to even take up this huge room by myself. I will not allow wasteful gestures."

Prim looked at him, insulted. "Wasteful? Well, they have a tool shed outside we could throw a couple old blankets in if it would make you feel better, but it will be kinda wasteful beings you won't be in a convenient spot for the nurses to look after you. And we could move a few hobo's in here to your room, but it will sure play havoc on the sterile environment you need to heal, cost extra for the anti-infection drugs…but if it will make you feel better—"

"Ok. Ok. Princess Rosie. I get your point. Now get mine. It will never matter who I was, if I don't remember them. That is an extra expense. I am accepting this gala of expenditure though it hurts my pride, to please you. At least do not make light of how it hurts me to know my friends lay in the charity ward, while you treat me because of who I might be. Genetics, truth or lie, that man is not me. I will happily leave if you only do this for him." He stands there and takes her cheek in his palm as he says the last line.

Tears fill her eyes. "Don't be stupid. I do this for my Pirate King, the bringer of all the light I knew. I love you and want you to have your someday too. But that man you don't like for some reason, was my friend too and if you are the same, then I want them both to have a someday."

"I am sorry he died Prim. But you have to accept that he doesn't exist in here any longer. He can't come back from the dead, lovey." His voice is gentler now, but he is still standing firm on his willful stubborn way.

Prim wants to remind him that she already sees him, but she knows there is no point in fighting with him. If she pushes him, he will just run away. "You're right. I don't mean to push you. Sorry. No extras for him. But, you won't stop me from seeing you have the best we can do…for Bly Fisher."

He sighs and smiles at her. "Then we are settled. "

Dr. Everdeen looked at him for a moment then eyebrows rose at her daughter. She shrugged as if it didn't matter. "Prim, may I speak with you while Mr. Fisher has his tests?" Once in her office which lead to their quarters, Dr. Everdeen spun on Prim. "I do not want you wandering about this city with him alone."

"Well, then he will just leave. Seriously? It is Finn, mother. I swear it is."

"That is exactly why I say this. You do not remember Mr. Odair in his broken state? Really? You're all safe with this idea?"

"Mom. You wouldn't have me without him. He was the only person who tried. He kept me from going crazy. It was dark pain, silent and everything was black. Nothing. I was terrified all the time. He came two times every day unless he was in surgery. Mom. You need to get a grip. You owe him, Katniss and me. They ate him. For days, they must have gnawed him. Nobody came back for him. We left him like that. He came for me. I don't even care. I will go anyplace with him and I am not afraid. I am going out with him. I am going to do everything I can to give him his life back. Everything!"

"Going out with him!"

"Going outside. Out there. This is his home. Maybe if he remembers. I think he's starting too. I mean it. He told me a story Katniss told him. It was nothing, but he wasn't thinking about it and it just popped in. I won't let him stay locked in here. He wouldn't even leave the other place and now he can't wait. It is a big deal, Mom." Prim argued reasonably as always.

"When Rory is here, he will go with you. If he feels the man is a danger, then we have to think this through again. I also insist you keep a sedative with you at all times. If he gets…out of hand, you must promise me you will not hesitate to sedate him and call for assistance."

"No, Mother. I will get him better. Annie needs him. His son needs him. I need him too," Prim says with her quiet stubborn voice.

"It will do no harm if he doesn't know you have it with you. When Finnick was mad, there were times he was violent. I don't need to remind you how fragile you are. I will not give in on this. "

"Fine. I will take the sedative. But you are wrong. He won't be like that." Prim can't quite keep the pout out of her tone.

Her mother sighs. She reaches up and rubs her eyes. "Better wrong then unprepared. Just so you know, I am doing the DNA scan tonight. I will let you know."

"We are going to a confectionary and then swimming. I intend to take him by Annie's too. I don't know how far we will get." Prim heads to their quarters. She keeps track of the time and is waiting for him as he is wheeled back in his room.

Down the hill to the sea they go. Prim has a big umbrella to sit under this time. The water is actually blue today, not the green to match his eyes. The sun has crested and is on the downside of the day by the time he emerges from the water. She hurries over and helps him strap his legs on and get to his feet.

"Finnigan! Finnigan, I mean it. Come back here!" Prim doesn't think but turns to the sound of the voice.

A two year old boy runs like the wind from his mother just as fast as he can make it up the beach. Prim sweeps him up in her arms and looks at Bly with pride. "Guess who?"

"Finnigan," Bly says with heartstrings so tight it looks like pain.

"Yes. Finnigan Odair. The child of true love."

"Oh, he's beautiful." The boy looks up at his father for the first time and he cries. Bly turns away.

"Finnick? Finnick?" His mother shouts all doe eyes and shiny smile.

"Oh Crap. Annie it is me. Primrose?" Prim waves. "I caught little-bit for you."

Annie never takes her eyes off the man and when she turns him to see his face, she begins to scream.

"Annie. Annie It's ok. Annie this is my friend Bly. He was with me in the hospital."

Annie falls to her knees and screams covering her ears with her hands. Bly stands there mortified and watches as Johanna finally catches up. "Hey, Prim. Oh Annie, what now… it's just Prim. She isn't a ghost. She didn't die. Remember? "

She lifts the girl with long practice. Annie looks at the man and says again, "Finnick." Annie falls to one knee and mumbles something.

Johanna turns and blinks at the man with Prim. "Damned, you got some ugly stick on you, buddy."

Finnick smiles at Johanna. "Yeah, looks like you weren't too far behind me."

Johanna's eyes grow wide and she hisses, "No wonder she thought it was her dead husband. You're a brainless jerk, just like him."

"I hear you went crazy when he died. Speak ill of the dead do you?" he laughs and says back.

"Bite me. You don't get to have a free pass just because you look like a—"

"Johanna. This is my friend Bly. From the hospital." Prim jumps in between them. "Bly, this is Johanna Mason and Annie."

Annie begins to recover and peek at Bly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," she says shyly.

Johanna stands her up again, "Don't worry he's only the third Finnick you have seen this week. That's not so bad." Johanna brushes the sand off Annie's knees.

"He's not really my Finn. Is he?" Annie asks Johanna as if she is asking if Johanna is ok.

"No sweets. Not by a long-ass shot. Finn lives in here now, remember?" Johanna says with more kindness and patience then anyone could have known she carried. She points at Annie's heart and the crazy look on Annie's face clears as she nods agreement.

"He jumped out again, for a second." Annie says, face full of guilt.

"Well handsome over there, ain't him. Trust me?" Johanna wraps her arms around Annie and lets her have her cry as if this happens all the time.

Everyone looks around uncomfortably for a few seconds as Annie sobs in Johanna's shoulder. Bly keeps his back to them, head bent and looking at the boy who wiggles in Prim's arms. Prim and Bly make eyes as she and he wait for Annie to recover.

"Uhemm. I didn't mean to frighten anyone. You wouldn't happen to be Annie Cresta would you?"

Annie, eyes wide, pops her head up and corrects him. "It's Annie Odair. I'm married."

"Oh yes, of course. You wouldn't happen to be the one I have heard about?" he asks, eyes twinkling.

"I didn't win. I was just the last one." she says on edge again. Johanna is looking daggers at the man who won't look at her.

"No. No. The famous bread baker. The one who makes the best seaweed bread in all of District Four. I have heard all about you and seaweed bread is my favorite. I am very pleased to meet you Mrs. Odair, if that lady is you." Bly doesn't look around at her, but his voice is full of sincerity.

Annie looks up; anger turns to a smile which is followed by a blush. "That's me. My green bread is even better than Peeta's. He says so."

"That is just what Prim told me. Maybe sometime if you bake, you could save me a little," he asks softly. "It would mean a lot to me to taste such renowned sea-bread."

"I baked it fresh this morning. Come to our house and you can have some now!" Annie says without another thought to his strange face or what had happened.

"Oh Annie, you can't just invite all the weird people home," Johanna says with disgust.

"He isn't weird. He's Prim's friend," Annie says back with no fear of Johanna's opinion.

"I don't want to be any trouble," Bly says softly. He turns a little and peeks at Annie, keeping his hood and hat in the way of most of the damage. He can't help but want to look at her. She makes his heart ache to protect her.

Prim smiles and says, "But you are trouble, Pirate King. Nothing but trouble and it's fine. Annie, I would adore some of your bread. We won't stay long Johanna, promise."

"Here big strong man, carry Finnigan. Earn your keep. Freaking weirdo." Johanna lifts the boy from Prim's arms to Bly's.

"But he's afraid of my face…" Finnigan looks up at the man's face in horror then pokes his finger in his eyes and giggles.

"Oh, be careful of his eyes, Finn. They are new!" Prim says grabbing the boy's hand.

Johanna glares back at him. She takes a step forward and bends to look at him carefully under the brim of his hat. "Yeah, let me guess. Finnick Odair green."

Bly clears his throat. "I believe that is the correct model name."

With an eye roll she smirks. "Dream on, handsome."

Bly laughs. "I wasn't given any choice. Charity hospitals are using up the old capitol leftover stock."

Johanna looks at him cautiously, eyes narrow. "Well, they are not the right color anyway. His eyes were brighter and had more blue in them."

He smiles and tilts his head at her, then says, "And you, are taller on television."

"Shut up. Prim, your friend is a jerk," Johanna says.

"Well, he's nice once you get to know him." Prim giggles. She is amazed at how Johanna's hackles are raised and Bly doesn't even know that that is just the way her and Finn used to bicker back in District 13.

Prim smiles as Bly tries to contend with the wiggling hunk of boy in his arms. Finnigan is a handful, just like his father.

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><p><em><strong>Well, I couldn't help but slide a little fun with Johanna in. Hope you liked it and thanks for the lovely, lovely reviews! <strong>_


	6. Chapter 6

**The Fisher King and the Princess of Silence6**

**Author**: **Howlynn**  
><strong>Realm<strong>: _The Hunger Games_, Suzanne Collins  
><strong>Story Title<strong>: The Fisher King and the Princess of Silence6  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Annie's house, a barmy mermaid with sea-bread. Johanna is a fly in the ointment.  
><strong>CharacterRelationships**: Finnick Odair, Prim Everdeen, Johanna Mason, Finnigan Odair, Annie Odair, Dr. Everdeen and Haymitch Abernathy.

I** Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author notes**: Ahhh – thanks for the kind reviews.

**Warning: This may be an addictive substance, please check with your personality profile before beginning the program. Not responsible for any feelings of feelings you may experience.**

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><p>Finnigan is less than pleased to be in the arms of the lurching man. Bly is not sure how to contain him. The kid is heavy and it is making his long leg hurt with each step. Johanna keeps her eye on him, noting his trouble and smirking. She finally relieves him of the wiggly burden.<p>

"Panty waste. Can't even hold on to a baby." Johanna spins and tosses the boy dangerously in the air and catches him easily.

"My-Jo," Finnigan says, squealing in pleasure. Annie looks up at her flying son and covers her mouth as she laughs.

Prim slips a comforting arm around Bly, and he looks down at her. She wraps his arm around her shoulder and leans in to him, whispering, "You ok?"

"I am so screwed. You knew I'd like her. Didn't you?"

"Johanna?" Prim smiles innocently.

"Hell no. Her," He whispers and glares at her like she is cheating.

"Everyone likes Annie. Everyone." Prim winks at him, using both her eyes, she can't close just one yet.

"It still won't work you little schemer," he says back, kissing her forehead.

They all file into the house and Bly is happy to get off his legs. He should be more careful of the sand, but he would never remove his legs and dump it here. The grit has irritated his stumps and the added weight was about to kill him.

Annie is busy putting deep greenish brown rolls on a plate and Bly smiles at the sugar cubes piled so neatly on a doily covered plate in the middle of the table. He quickly pops three of them in his mouth and crunches them. He is reaching to grab more when a hand stops him forcefully.

Johanna squeezes his arm so fiercely he winces. "What the hell do you think you're doing? How dare you!"

Bly looks up, confused. "I just…I'm sorry. They were on the table. What?"

"Those are not for you, brainless. Those are for Finnick."

Bly looks to Prim helplessly. "Johanna. He didn't know. I'm sorry." Prim tries to calmly pry Johanna's hand off Bly's arm.

Annie is looking at the plate in horror. "Finnick's home," she whispers.

Johanna looks up and let go of his arm and pops him in the back of the head. "No he's not. Rude ass here helped himself. He ate Finnick's sugar cubes because he's freaking stupid."

"Oh," Annie says softly, "Here is bread." She looks down at Bly and her breath is panting. She's trying so hard to hold herself together. She steps back from him as if he is about to pounce on her and then she darts outside.

"Terrific. Eat your damned bread and get out." Johanna sighs and lifts Finnigan into a little netted bed. Finnigan grabs a stuffed shark and when she stands up again, Bly has disappeared out the door.

"You are kidding me, right? Tell me pretty boy went to the bathroom?"

Prim stood up and chewed her lip. "Johanna. Let him."

"The hell I will. How about you keep the rest of your friends to yourself. He's going to give her a damned breakdown again."

"Johanna, please trust me. Let him." Prim is trying to convey so much in her eyes. Johanna just glares and stomps over to the window and peeks through the curtains.

Johanna's eyes go wide and she says in awe, "I will be sawed and damned!"

Bly follows the crazy beauty out the door. He doesn't approach her or look at her, but he stands there in plain sight, eating his bread and making appreciative noises. Finally, he peeks at her and sees he has her attention. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know," she says, picking at her fingernails and shivering. "I pretend a lot."

"You must have loved him very much?"

"I love him now. He wouldn't leave me. He wouldn't," she says the last part fiercely as if defending herself.

"I believe you," he says softly, "What was he like?"

"Everyone knows what he was like. Nobody wants to hear about him anymore." There is sadness in her voice. "They just want to forget."

"Well. I don't know anything about him, so you can tell me." He sighs when she doesn't respond.

"How come you don't know about him? Did you not see television?" she takes a step toward him, watching him intensely.

Bly shrugs. "I don't remember things. They say my head was messed up."

"In your accident? They say I am crazy. Are you crazy too?" She takes another step forward.

"Maybe. I think I must be." He peeks at her and takes another bite of bread. "This is the most wonderful thing I have ever eaten."

She drops her eyes and blushes. "What did you look like before?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything. Was he…nice to you, Annie?"

"He was always mine. But I didn't know for so long. Then I finally found him and they took him away again. I pretend. I pretend that he's coming back and they think I don't know that he's not." She has tears in her eyes.

"Annie, close your eyes," he says in a kind tone, "Don't be afraid."

She closes her eyes and he takes her hand softly and guides it around his waist. "Keep your eyes shut, Annie. " He wraps his arms around her as softly as he can. "Now pretend, Annie. As long as you want."

She sighs and pulls him to her. Bly swallows and he closes his eyes and buries his face in her hair and they both pretend. For a moment he wishes that this beautiful woman could be his someday. "He used to brush my hair and I would let him do it until it hurt. It soothed him to brush my hair when they hurt him." Bly moves his hand to her silky hair and strokes it.

"He loved to swim. He could swim all day and he never got wrinkly. He used to tell me stories when I was afraid. He saved me and I thought I was going to get to save him back when it was all done. I never got to save him. He was nice to me. Nicer than anyone. Nobody loved me after I went crazy, but he did. He could have loved anyone, but he picked me. He picked me. Nobody will ever pick me again. Nobody will ever understand me like he did." She hugs him close and his shirt gets wet, but he holds her silently anyway.

He can tell by her breathing she is relaxed and calm. He smiles a little and kisses her on top of the head. "Are you ready to go back inside?"

She nods. "Prim is here. She came back from the dead."

"Keep your eyes shut until I go inside. That way it doesn't spoil the pretend," he whispers.

She grins and nods, eyes closed. "It was wonderful. Thank you, Bly Fisher."

"Anytime. I am good at pretending." Bly lets her go with regret, and quickly slips in the door.

Prim is grinning like her back teeth need light and Johanna is glaring at him like she could end him right this minute if there were no witnesses. Bly takes his seat again and lifts another slice of bread, paying special attention to spread the caviar in a thin smooth layer. He moans softly as he rolls his eyes. The bread alone is heaven and the little fish eggs popping salty and delicious as he chews is as close to any sort of pleasure he's known in life.

Annie comes back in the house and blushes at Johanna a little, then sits down as if nothing is wrong. "Are you staying for dinner, Prim?"

Prim glances at Bly, knowing he's begging her to say yes, but she shakes her head. "No, not this time. But we will take a future invite. I have to get Bly back; he has a full day tomorrow. They are taking skin samples to grow into new grafts and doing stress tests and blood work. You are welcome to come to the hospital to see him, but he may be a bit grouchy after they get done tomorrow."

"Oh. We will see. Hospitals scare me. But I will try," Annie says.

"Thank you for the bread," Bly says.

They get ready to go and Annie piles a paper bag full of the triangular green rolls. She shyly hands it to Bly and smiles. Bly takes them as if she has offered him gold. Johanna steps in the way. "I will see you out."

They step out the door and Johanna turns to Bly. "I don't know what you think you're up to, but don't come back here. Annie is…fragile and she can't deal with this kind of crap. Me either."

Bly looks down at her and frowns. "I was only trying to help."

"Yeah well, help somebody who gives a crap about your try-hard." Johanna reaches out and pushes him, not hard, but between his balance issue and his legs being metal, he couldn't move in a way that countered her action. He tumbled backwards helplessly and fell off the porch.

"Johanna. What the heck is wrong with you?" Prim screeches at the dark haired victor.

"Prim you are always welcome, but don't bring him around anymore. Something, about him. Sorry man, but you freaking give me the creepy-crawls. Just stay away. Don't mean you any harm and it's not the way you look either, just so you know. But, I can't …let you come back here, " she is callous and hard in her tone.

Prim looks at her and shakes her head. Bly is picking up the spilled rolls and brushing them off and retuning them to his bag. Prim helps him and she doesn't mean to cry, but this had gone so much better than she'd ever hoped and then Johanna was making it all fall apart. Prim helps him to his feet.

"It's ok. You just made it easy. Everyone calls her crazy. Seems to me her candle is flickering a bit, but it's yours that is so far out, it isn't even smoking."

Johanna lifts her chin and narrows her eyes. "Go. Before I change my mind and beat your face pretty. Not like there's any farther down the atrocious road for you to travel."

"Yeah. You and me. Inside out of each other." He smiles and turns quickly and walks away.

Prim shakes her head. "How could you?"

Johanna stands on the porch for a long time, watching them. A tear rolls down her cheek. That's exactly what she is talking about. He could see her and it gave her the creeps.

"Bly, I'm sorry. I have never seen her so vicious. A little mean yes, but not like that."

"Doesn't matter. No worries Princess Rose. Annie was worth it."

"Really?" Prim smiles at him and takes his arm, noticing him limp.

He sits on the first available bench. "This sand is killing me." He busies himself with getting his legs free of the sand. Prim helps him brush off his irritated stumps and uses her sleeve to wipe out the tiny grains of sand from his concave prosthetic sockets.

"Better?" She asks.

"Than what?" he snickers at her.

They stop at the candy store again and Bly buys sugar cubes and taffy. Prim is fascinated with all the taffy flavors and Bly laughs as she goes back for her own bag of banana flavor.

The next day is all business in the hospital and Bly is miserable by the evening. Prim sees his surgeries stacking up and it thrills her and worries her. Something magical happened with Annie out on that porch and she doesn't want it to go away or give him time to explain it away. Annie may not be in his memory, but she's in his heart even if he doesn't want to admit it.

Her mother is waiting as she enters the apartment they share. She stands and smiles at her. "Baby? It's Finnick Odair. It's him." She hands her daughter the results and Dr. Everdeen's fingers go to her mouth as tears spring to her eyes, though she quickly blinks them away.

Prim reads the markers and smiles. "Oh Momma, thank you. Thank you so much. We still can't tell yet, you know, but this changes everything. It's proof. Can I call Haymitch? He will know what to do next."

"I think that's for the best. He's paying for all this. He has a right to know." Dr. Everdeen sighs deeply. "I didn't really believe you. I thought he had fed you a fish tale."

" If you could have seen him with Annie today. Momma he's in there. My last doubt stopped right there, but now I can make anyone believe." Prim hugged her mother.

"I just hope we can get him to." Dr. Everdeen pats her daughters back.

The gruff voice turned to dripping sweetness when Haymitch heard her voice. "Haymitch, I have something to tell you. All the files weren't corrupted. Momma had her own and he matched. It's Finnick and now I got you your proof."

"That's…" there is a pause. Prim is patient. She understands. There is a deep sigh and some nose blowing. "Sorry, caught a cold or something. Well, sweetheart, that is just terrific news. I will see his victor account is restored and available to him soon."

"You mean, he's still rich? Peeta and Katniss aren't very, I thought it all went with the crash. Shouldn't it go to Annie?"

"They hold it for five years. Yes, he's rich. But he earned every penny of it and maybe now it can do some good. Peeta and Katniss will never worry for money, sweetheart, and neither will you." Haymitch assures.

"Did you earn your money too, Haymitch?"

"Sure I did. Where do you think it came from?" Haymitch asks with a hedge of concern in his voice.

"Don't get mad. I thought you stole it," she says in a little meek voice.

Haymitch chuckles, then he laughs out loud. "But you still like me? "

"Yes. You are the naughtiest person I know."

"And you are the biggest little brat. Worse than your sister ever thought of being," he teases her.

"Are we going to tell Katniss?"

"We need to talk about that a bit. I will see you in a few days," Haymitch promises. "And sweetheart? You did good."

"I took him to see Annie today. "

"Yes, I am aware. I have only had four phone calls from Miss Mason this evening. Take my advice, don't do that again."

"Sorry." she says, but she isn't really. "When it is all ready? I get to tell her."

He laughs again. "Not without me you don't!"

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><p>Please review - thanks!<p> 


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